


A Glass of Wine

by Lyragirl



Category: Klaus (2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Closeted Bisexual! Jesper, Drinking & Talking, Friends to Lovers, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Self-Acceptance, Smut, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Teasing, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyragirl/pseuds/Lyragirl
Summary: After a mere noncommittally grunt from Jesper, only a comfortable silence was left of the previous conversation. Nothing uncommon between them despite their ironical chatty nature. One of the few enjoyable things Mogens had always brought with him to the weekly annoyment sessions. Jesper sighed as his gaze landed in the falling snow behind the window.He was trapped.By the storm in his own post office, by common courtesy with Mogens and by the situation with his own thoughts. None of them being good combined.Maybe it was the drink, or the revelation that there were people in his circle of acquaintances that didn't have problems admitting it out loud, but suddenly Jesper found himself delving into a box of secrets he hadn't touched in a long time now.
Relationships: Jesper Johanssen/Mogens
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69





	1. Hidden under snow

**Author's Note:**

> OhohoHOH BOY this fic man, what can I say about it? It was supposed to be posted last year to give you an idea of how things started. I watched Klaus as soon as it came out(beautiful movie, I LOVE IT. Why am I showing my love via writing smut? Don't ask me, I'll feel bad), I cried and ended shipping Jesper with everyone. What happened afterwards? Tons of good klausper fics, Jesper/Alva was already canon...Mogens and Jesper didn't have fics yet, I had to imagine my own thing. I wasn't planning to write this but it just happened thanks to the motivation of being the first smut fic of these two aaand...then I finished the first draft and shifted to another fandom dsffd
> 
> BUT I CAME BACK, started editing, created an account here just for this bc I don't have the guts to post nsfw in my main, aand here's the first chapter just one year later. I know I know, I'm a really responsible author s/
> 
> Now about the fic: I have this weird thing where I like my smut to be more than just that, have some background behind it and not only 'they fuck. The end'. I guess that's why there's an entire chapter of build up only lol and it was also an experiment. These's two have a curious relationship that's nothing like I've ever written before; not friends, not enemies, just two dudes that bicker but kiiinda appreciate each other due to being the only one there for each other for quite a while. I tried to keep that here, with just a little evolution since this is post-the first Christmas(various months but not a year. Alva and Jesper would be in the 'maybe we like each other but we aren't in a hurry to discover' phase so no cheating here, don't worry!)
> 
> You'll probably notice that Jesper was the easiest to write for me of the two too lol Mogens was a pain since his charm is in the fact that he's a mysterious man with some surprising background if you look for details. To not remove that and avoid going into OOC territory, I ended writing everything form Jesper's POV but giving enough hints of what Mogens is thinking. All I can say about our dear sailor in this story is that I based his attitude here in a thing I noticed in the movie, which was that despite how distant Mogens tried to be through all the story, it was always him the one starting conversations with Jesper. What did that mean I wonder? -eyes-
> 
> Okay I'll shut up now. Yes I went the 'drunk opposites' route and made Jesper a sad drunk and Mogens one that overshares. All said now, thanks for reading if you did, let's begin the story:

Time was a difficult thing to handle, Jesper had started learning about that when he arrived at Smeerenburg long ago.

In that town there were no nannies making sure he followed schedule. No servants taking care of all the extra effort the everyday activities brought with them. After he was kicked out of his father's post office, it all depended on him; which considering Jesper barely did anything on his own before he was sent there er... _it could've gone better._

The wish to oversleep had only been overcome by six thousand letters not obtaining themselves, and more than one lunch or dinner had been skipped for not managing to cook them on time. Sleeping at a decent time was the only thing Jesper didn't struggle with now, and only because he came exhausted from all the things a postman had to go through on that town(no traps or people with guns now luckily, but dogs that hated him and long routes to walk through eveyday).

It had been a difficult ride full of things to stumble upon, but Jesper considered he had managed to form the perfect routine to balance work and independent life now.

Of course there were days when time just slipped, and his decisions of that day to give more of it to other fun activities sometimes left work to finish overnight. Not a problem for the one and only Smeerengburg's postman, _no._ Piles of letters didn't start to arrive until November(October for the impatient), and the few he collected now in the middle of june should be easy to handle in just a few hours.

'Should be', because while Jesper sweated his guts out trying to keep up with the slippery time, there were ferrymen with plenty of it deciding to spend it interrupting his work.

Jesper tried to ignore that one sound repeating the same chorus over and over again — hand, floor, wall, repeat — as he kept putting letters in their respective box in the cubbyholes with fatigue. Both his hat and coat were off by now, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and slightly messy hair showing how many times he had brushed it off his face during all the task. It clearly was that time of the night where Jesper couldn't care less of how he looked even if there was a guest.

Only one thing was in his mind at this hour, and it was that Jesper wanted to turn off the lamp that barely lighted the otherwise dark room, bath in cream his dry-from-touching-so-much-paper hands, and go straight to his silk sheets(that his father had recently sent to him as a birthday gift) in bed. But Jesper couldn't, not until he finished his work, not until he stopped getting distracted by that sickening squeaky sound going on behind his back.

Jesper sighed, practically groaned when he heard the strong wind roaring loudly outside reminding him of its presence. At what moment did his day fall like this?

Hm, let's see: woke up in a still-in-need-of-repairs-but-on-much-better-conditions post office, picked up and delivered letters, reunited with his friends to talk about the upcoming Christmas in Klaus' cottage, had a big dinner there, taught Margú how to make a snowman(er, got taught actually but _shh-_ ) aaand then came back home with a nice bottle of wine that Alva gifted him since they weren't allowed to drink it at the end, not after she saw children there.

Ah yes, it was right after that, when Mogens passed by the office to retrieve something he forgot that morning and saw Jesper struggling to carry the bag of letters of that day.

Huge mistake number 1: Jesper forgot Klaus had warned him about an upcoming snow storm that night. Huge mistake number 2: He had been dumb enough to endure Mogens obligatory teasing in order to get some help with the bag. The result? Now the guy was trapped there with him until the storm finished its rampage.

Jesper's eye twitched when Mogens started to whistle a random tune to accompany his boredom. No, scratch that: _He_ was trapped there with the guy.

“Mogens.” Jesper said, strangely more calmly than his glare made it look to be. Mogens was still sitting on that chair a few steps away from the desk, tilting the seat back enough to keep balance while leaning it's back against the wall. Jesper barely managed not to crush the envelope in his hand at the sight of the ferryman smirking.

“Yeah?”

“How much do you think the storm will last?”

“Don't know, and hour maybe?” He shrugged, started to bounce that ball again. Why was he bouncing that ball again?!

“What do you mean you don't know?! You're the local ferryman!” Jesper turned around, the letters being thrown over the desk( _a real desk now_ ) in a moment of pure irritation. His hands gestured at the other man acussatory. “ _If anything,_ you should've predicted it would happen!”

“Who says I didn't?” Finally, Mogens looked away from the wall to acknowledge him, expression so amused with himself that Jesper had it hard to not raise his voice again. Did he stay on purpose to annoy him?!

Of course he did. It was Mogens, why else would he stay there with him?

“I forgot, chief. As simple as that.” The ferryman added after a moment. With a shrug his gaze went back to the wall, the ball at the edge of repeating its previous routine until the hand holding it stopped mid-way. As if sensing Jesper's thoughts, Mogens glanced at the postman. “You won't be thinking of kicking this old man out for forgetting things, won't you? The cold would do no good to this bad back.”

If the tone was trying to sound somewhat pleading, it failed completely, because it was obvious Mogens was still having fun messing with him. Jesper's frown still softened the slightest bit at the words. The idea of kicking someone, as irritant as they were, out into the storm just...didn't settle well with him, not anymore, not after having learned what basic empathy was.

So Jesper simply sighed and rolled his eyes, his hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose to stop adding future wrinkles to his face. “Listen just-” He turned around to return to his work. “Just let me work. Write or draw on the papers over there or something. Just entertain yourself until the storm passes.”

“Oh, don't worry. I can entertain myself _just fine._ ”

And then Mogens resumed his whistling, finally getting Jesper's patience to leave him in a loud, long groan as his forehead came in contact with the wood of the furniture.

-

Maybe it was the whistling, how tired he was, or Mogens mere existence, but ten minutes later Jesper found himself sitting at his desk, Alva's wine bottle opened and swallowing the contents of a glass in hopes of getting drunk and ending his suffering at once. If Jesper couldn't have his silk sheets tonight, work and hangover be damned.

Mogens had asked to have a sip of the beverage too of course, which Jesper surprisingly let happen. It gave the ferryman something to do, and dealing with a drunk-Mogens falling asleep on his desk seemed like a better fate than this for Jesper, so it was a win for both parts.

So there was the local postman of Smeerenburg, ignoring the remaining letters shoved aside on his desk in order to drink a cheap but surprisingly good wine and 'attend his guest'; or in other words: being part of a normal conversation with the guy that liked to act as the stone in his shoe whenever he got bored.

Why did it require alcohol for them to have one of those was something Jesper didn't find surprising.

That was an exaggeration, Jesper knew. The toys business changed that town in a lot of ways, _the people did_ , and Mogens was included in that. It may had taken some time for him to adapt to Smeerenburg's sudden niceness, but sarcastic jokes and the occasional foot placed to make Jesper trip were as mean as the ferryman could get nowadays. The battle bell days were long gone now, and though Mogens had once confessed still having the damned thing close to his heart, it was apparent that the man had come to terms with how things were now in a way.

Heck, _it even looked like the good mood of the town rubbed off on him too._ Jesper couldn't recall seeing Mogens laugh sincerily before all that, not even when it looked like he was having a blast watching the new postman failing to get his letters back when Jesper arrived.

It was because of that(and his own personal growth) that Jesper couldn't really say he hated the guy anymore. Mogens was the only semi-descent socialization he had during his first seven months there and yeah, most of their interactions back then consisted on sarcastic comments on the street and Mogens dropping by on the window to check he wasn't dead yet; but it was the only reassurance Jesper received to know he still existed, that he hadn't suddenly turned into a ghost and that was why the locals always ignored him, so Jesper bore with it.

Now Mogens had evolved from the weekly nuisance to an useful co-worker in a way. That by taking care of the out-going mail(that Jesper now _had_ ) and having helped Klaus and him to know the fastest routes to take for the future plan of delivering gifts outside the island more than once.

Just like Alva, Klaus, Margú and the Sámi, Mogens had been and still was part of his life in Smeerenburg.

That didn't mean Jesper had grown any fonder of the teasing though.

“I'm just saying, as an internal decoration expert,” Again, Mogens tilted his chair back for it to lean on the wall as he directed his hands forming a frame at an empty corner of the room. Jesper winced at the old floor cracking in protest. “that a liquor cabinet would look _reaally_ nice over there. Won't do miracles but the contents would at least help ignore the place falling apart for a while, don't you think?”

Mogens chuckled at his own joke, as he always did when Jesper was being a miserable bag of... _misery_. The postman started wondering if having the guy irritating him from afar was preferably from having him doing that beside his desk right now.

The joke felt weak this time however. The post office still may still not look the best but it wasn't falling apart like before either. All the holes were repaired thanks to Klaus help so there was no snow entering, the chickens had their own henhouse outside the building now(which for some reason his bearded friend had chosen that as the 1# priority when they were looking at what to fix first), the door worked, the cleaning was er- going there, they got rid of some of the branches stuck in the walls...so yeah, _it was looking great!_ Mogens just didn't know how to appreciate the little things.

Maybe the recent abandonment of mean jokes was making the man lose his touch with that.

The idea had a negative connotation in the postman's mind, because Mogens without sarcasm and jokes would be an entity he won't recognize at all.

As an answer to the so-so joke Jesper only hummed bluntly against his palm, as he had been doing for the last half hour to every comment the other made. Sighing, he took another sip of his glass to embrace himself for the smug comeback he'll probably get for daring to answer something.

“I can't put that here. Or _anything like that_ for that matter.” Jasper rolled his eyes and raised a hand to help explain his point. “Clients come here and as the local postman I have to be, you know, professional and all that? Not something you really know about I'm sure.”

For a moment Jesper thought _'oh wow, there's no way he can give a comeback to that. Jesper my friend, you just won the right to buy yourself a nice coffee tomorrow'._ It was a nice millisecond of happiness which got easily crushed by a loud, raspy laugh.

“What? _The children?_ Come on, you're acting like a lady would ever come to this place.” Mogens was still laughing, his belly bouncing with the movement before he picked his own glass of wine from the desk to finish its content.

Though some unexpected relief at seeing the snarky humor still intact sneaked there, Jesper focused only on the fact that he was _so_ offended by that comment that his arm could do nothing but hang at his side as he stared at the ferryman. How dare he? It was totally expected from his to say that but _how dare he!_

With the need to answer something to not look like a fool, the postman stuttered for a moment before placing his hands on his hips and blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.“For your information, _I_ was quite the ladies man back home,” Half-lie. The occasional something with a girl had been there, but it were the old ladies at his father's elegant dinners the ones Jesper got at his feet. They used to call him 'charming' 'lovely' and 'cute' when he was younger, always pinching his cheeks enough to leave them sore the rest of the night. “so I have as many chances of impressing a lady here as before.”

Another laugh, Mogens left the glass on the desk to put an arm behind his head to get comfortable. Jesper wrinkled his nose. Asshole.

“No offense,” Which meant full offense. “But I've been here way longer than you and believe me, you're not the ladies type. They prefer them-” Putting his other hand under his chin, Mogens took a moment to hum thoughtful before grinning at finding the right word. “ _less delicate_.”

Too occupied trying to find another comebacks to give, Jesper didn't notice the ferryman eyeing him up a down. Argument won or not, that coffee was still going to happen; compensation for having to deal with all this was needed.

“W-well, Alva comes here! You saw her, she-she visits all the time!” Jesper blurted out, not really sure what he was trying to prove with that.

“You _want_ to impress Miss Alva?”

He fell silent.

And that was it, Jesper no longer deserved the coffee, he _legally owed_ it to Mogens now, because even though he opened his mouth to say something, there was no possible answer he could give to that. He didn't know what to say, he lost, _finito._

And judging by the ferryman's smug smile and now both arms placed behind his head showing a comfortable victory, the other man was well aware of that.

At such defeat, Jesper did the only mature thing to do: he ignored his father's advice on how to drink with moderation and swallowed all the content of his glass in one gulp. The amount of liquid burned through his throat as it passed down, almost made him choke, if it wasn't for the sudden light dizziness the postman just noticed distracting him from it. Was this his second glass or third? Jesper passed a worried hand through his hair before looking at the bottle of wine to notice it was almost empty. _Oh._

The big-eyed blinks he directed to Mogens were met with an arched brow and the smile dropping a bit, which Jesper didn't bother to interpret. He was wondering who drank most of it, about who was at the edge of entering that state where shame got thrown out of the window. Jesper didn't know which answer would be the worst to deal with in the morning.

“Take it, I prefer beer anyways.” Mogens waved a dismissive hand that then went to pinch his nose. He sighed, somehow still able to release an unheard chuckle while looking like something was going on inside his head. “Besides, I think I already had enough...”

The last part, more a murmur than an actual sentence, remained unheard in the postman's ears. Jesper didn't care enough to ask for it to be repeated either. With common sense seeming way too far away now, he gave in to his whim and purred into his glass the last of the bottle contents. Eh, he had been drunk before, didn't die, what was the worst that could happen now?

“Okay, okay, that was fun, ha-ha, _such a good laugh we just had_.” Jesper commented sarcastically. His next words sounded odd leaving his mouth, but seemed as the best way to keep unwanted remarks away from him. “But enough about me, what about you?”

“If _I_ want to impress Miss Alva?” Mogens whistled. “Those would be lots of knives to avoid. But nah, she was more of a drinking partner.”

Jesper nearly, for a moment had to fight back the urge to laugh at the knives comment, but the last bit made him abandon the empty bottle on the desk and tilt his head with curiosity instead.

“Was?”

The ferryman hummed, his fingers raising with the list as it went. “The school works, the neighbors aren't angry and violent anymore, and she no longer smells like fish either. No reasons to drop by at the bar so often now, as you can guess.”

A silence came after the shrug, in which Jesper for a moment thought he saw _something_ in Mogens' gaze losing in the distance, nostalgia perhaps? It was gone as quickly as it came when the older man spoke again.

“I personally believe a lil' beer once in a while doesn't hurt. Full stomach, happy heart.” He contentedly patted his belly as to remark his point. “But you know, _it's for the children_.”

This time Jesper wasn't able to hide the chuckle at seeing the way Mogens batted his eyelashes to imitate their innocence. He shook his head to stop it, quickly forgetting about what he thought he saw a moment ago. It wasn't like Alva had suddenly abandoned her drinking partner all of sudden. Yeah, it wasn't as often as before that Jesper saw the teacher and the ferryman outside the bar, and it could be that now Alva seemed bright as a rose talking about how the school was going instead of the previous sour complaints that seemed to amuse Mogens, not to mention Jesper got dragged into those hang out sometimes now.

Okay it was different now that was for sure, but not bad unless...well maybe he...

He was about to say maybe Mogens missed having someone to have a drink with. Oh boy, Mogens of all people missing company? Jesper's mind definitely was far gone from the alcohol now if he almost considered that conclusion.

The sudden old memories of his first seven months there, remembering the lonely feelings of those nights realizing it had been another day of no one directing even a glance to him, got Jesper to press his lips together in a realization he might not have want to recognize. Returning to talking felt necesary to avoid his mind from delving into that.

“Okay, you got a point. But returning to the topic, I was asking about your type.” A pause, eyes widening at realizing the mistake, note taken that too much alcohol messed with the mediator between his brain and mouth. The way Jesper's hands moved wildly as he tried to fix the mess he just did didn't look natural at all. “ _I mean if you're the ladies type._ ”

Despite just being an attempt to keep the conversation going, Jesper found himself actually wondering what the answer would be. It were few the times Mogens talked about himself, and Jesper never tried to know him beyond of being the guy with the boat who liked to laugh at people. The reason now that hate wasn't an excuse? If that was normal with the regularity they saw each other now? Jesper wasn't sure.

If Mogens noticed the nervousness in Jesper's voice(which he probably did), he didn't let it show besides of the usual smirk. “Oh, me? Well, I'm quite the good-looking guy that's for sure, got some eyes behind me.”

It wasn't the cocky expression what let Jesper staring, lips at mere centimeters of the glass' rim, but the sight of the ferryman taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. Mogens haid was something Jesper noticed he had never seen.

“...and in front of me apparently.”

Jesper had to thank he didn't have the beverage in his mouth yet because he would've chocked otherwise. That didn't stop him from having to leave the glass on his desk at suffering the same fate by the hands of his own saliva though.

After coughs and a fist hitting his chest to help it cease, Jesper managed to semi-recompose himself to look back at the other man. Mogens was smirking, it was a joke, the guy was just messing with him just like he always did, there was no reason for Jesper to fell alarms _(those alarms)_ going off at the back of his head again.

But they did, and the laugh his body released in self-defense to panic just activated automatically.

“There's no way that could happen you are a- _we are both men!_ ” The words tasted wrong on his tongue as he laughed them out, sounding more nervous than genuine at knowing why that was. “That would be ridiculous...”

Hand over his head and his forearm leaning on the desk, Jesper practically whispered the last part, more to himself than to the man beside him; because he knew how things were, knew how wrong people said it was to feel that way towards another man.

And he was well aware of how elegant suits, strong perfume and firm arms around his shoulders as he was told what a great heir he'll be one day, all of that could still make his heart beat in a way it wasn't supposed to.

The need to distract himself appeared once more, making Jesper look for his wine only to discover an empty glass was left on its place.

Then he noticed.

_The silence._

Pure and peaceful silence that only the sound of angry nature outside cut off. The one he had been looking for since Mogens arrived there. It was there and now felt wrong and out of place coming from the so annoying ferryman.

Mogens was drinking from his glass slowly, his gaze lost somewhere in the room as if not paying attention to the beverage. This earned a frown from Jesper obviously, not for his gifted last glass being stolen just like that(because of course Mogens would do that), but out of genuine confusion at how odd the scene displaying in front of him was.

Out of all the things that could've surprised Jesper about that, if was the fact that he actually got worried about Mogens, his personal nuisance he had wished to see like this for so long of all people, that took the prize.

The words were practically begging to roll out of his tongue. Jesper decided to let them, willing to release the question with the tact and delicacy that a subject like that deserved.

“Wait, _you have been with men?_ ”

Yep, tact, the thing he knew perfectly how to handle just ran out of his mouth without sounding completely in shock and baffled. _Nailed it._

There was a long pause after that, in which the only thing Mogens did was hold his gaze with his lips still touching the glass' rim. Out of all the reactions, the one Jesper expected the less was a sigh. In a moment the chair came back to the floor as well as the glass to the desk, the man straightening indicating something serious coming up. Jesper bit his lip in nervous anticipation.

“Listen, sport. You know life in Smeerenburg was quite the one before the whole ' _toys_ and _magic_ and _peace_ '.” Mogens twirled his fingers in the air to sympathize the last. “Between so much battling and destroying each other's properties, relaxation was a need most of the locals had. And with no fancy things like saunas and such here, the options pretty much reduced to either drinking or _more intimate things..._ ”

Mogens raised his hands, one making a ring and the other directing its index finger towards it. The lewd gesture got Jesper to shrug and look away, his thumbs rounding one another in a dumb display of how vague his interactions were with that subject. This reaction seemed to bring an amused smile to the ferryman's face.

“And well, can't expect everyone to do things the exact same way, do you?”

Jesper was left speechless. Did he?

No, he never did.

Such an odd answer for anyone else, but one a long time of knowing the sailor had made easier for Jesper to decipher. Such a simple, almost obvious statement, yet it felt like a comforting hand in his back the postman didn't realize he had been waiting for. An 'It's okay, it's normal' coming to tell him he was again just making a big deal out of a little thing.

Thousands of times he had been told it wasn't normal however, so if was obvious the doubt and guilt wouldn't want to leave that easily.

“Even...” All curled up like that, Jesper realized he looked too vulnerable, _too obvious_ , so he quickly straightened to avoid feeling that way. His voice still came soft as he brought his gaze back up. “Even if people say it's not okay to do them differently?”

Mogens, always-relaxed-Mogens, only 'tch'-ed amused at that, rested one of his arms over the back of the chair. “Morality didn't start being a thing here until you came, I remind you. As long as it wasn't someone from a different clan, the few people that knew kept it all under key.”

The ferryman ended with a long, finishing sip of the remaining drink. The smile was back on his face in an instand, but when that gaze returned to Jesper, the dark aura around it made the content expression look more menacing than anything. “And I guess you wouldn't want anything bad coming from messing with what's under key, would you?”

A threat. An indirect but clear one, something also uncommon coming from a mouth that only spitted out jokes. Though the postman wanted to be offended(gasping and putting a hand on his chest and everything), it wasn't difficult to comprehend why he was being warned. Mogens wasn't dumb. Like Jesper, he was probably more than aware of the consequences that could come out of revealing something like that.

“No need for that, I'm not cruel.” _'Unlike you'_ Jesper wanted to add, but he conformed with waving a dismissive hand and leaning a cheek on his other palm instead. He smirked at the dumb joke that came up to his mind. “I take this explains why you're always so relaxed?”

“As you know, I'm not part of any clan so,” The dark aura dissipated as soon as it came, leaving Mogens' chuckle to lighten up the mood instead. The chair tilting back and boots with dirt crossing over the desk also showed the problem got quickly forgotten. “Without that limit there, I'll let you guess.”

Oh, mental image, ew.

Jesper narrowed his eyes at the bits of dirt falling onto his work surface, considering for a moment taking advantage of the ferryman's eyes being covered by his hat and hands intertwined over his stomach to push the boots away and make him fall, but decided against it. Less he wanted was the irony of ending in the naughty list.

After a mere noncommittally grunt from Jesper, only a comfortable silence was left of the previous conversation. Nothing uncommon between them despite their ironical chatty nature. One of the few enjoyable things Mogens had always brought with him to the weekly annoyment sessions. Jesper sighed as his gaze landed in the falling snow behind the window.

He was trapped.

By the storm in his own post office, by common courtesy with Mogens and by the situation with his own thoughts. None of them being good combined.

Maybe it was the drink, or the revelation that there were people in his circle of acquaintances that didn't have problems admitting it out loud, but suddenly Jesper found himself delving into a box of secrets he hadn't touched in a long time now.

The strangest thing about running away from something, is that the longest you do it, the less clearly you can see it. You spend so much time avoiding even thinking about it that your brain starts deforming it into the worst version of it. You just know it's bad, it's _hideous_ , the mere idea of it existing is the worse thing you could have in front of you.

It all gets to the point where when you stop, when you actually turn around look at it...you find sometimes that makes you wonder what exacty were you scared of in the first place.

And you end realizing for what a dumb thing you had lost countless nights of sleep for all this time.

Jesper still remembered when all of this started, in that dinner his father organized with a foreign business partner's family years ago. He had met their son that night, a boy a little older than Jesper that looked just as bored to be there as him. His father had sent him to 'show the young man the gardens' as an excuse to let the ones with a job to talk, which Jesper had done with zero interest on anything but to be free from that soon.

The foreign guy was sarcastic, porting a curly hair and a suit that he had loosened once off his parents' line of sight, and actually understood the burden of having to work after a life full of whims being so perfect. They got along well.

It was difficult to wrap where it exactly happened, at what moment the laughs unheard in the hidden parts of the garden had turned into hands around his waist and lips trapped by a far more experienced pair. Jesper just knew that he hadn't opposed at first, that he didn't dislike it as the elders said he was supposed to. It wasn't until a hand scooped under his shirt that he actually reacted.

He may had been able to run away that night, but the thoughts, the feelings and his own body reactions to remembering it, they had never been easy to escape from even to this day.

The excuse of it all being a confusion was one that Jesper still grabbed onto with sturbbornness however. A mess up of his brain, a mere _'thinking you like something but you try it after too long and, whoops, you actually don't like it'_ kind of thing. It sounded believable enough, gave him hope.

The only problem with that was that it wasn't an easy plan to pull off. Jesper had been with girls before, knew that holding dainty hands and the feel of soft long hair was something he liked a lot, but with men...it was impossible to get that close, to get an alike experience like the one already wasted.

Jesper frowned. But what did he want to try in the first place? Hold hands? Kiss? Thinking about going further than that already made him feel nervous.

...God, he was such a virgin.

Anyways, he would need to meet a man with those likes to get to that in the first place, and besides of the foreign guy he never met any in all those years.

He only knew Mogens now.

Jesper's brain attempted to go full _'No, nope, absolutely not!'_ at seeing where that thought was going, but logic just didn't work well when alcohol was in his system. Without noticing, the postman found himself directing his tired gaze to the ferryman.

Mogens wasn't anything like the men he had met back in his home city. No one in Smeerenburg was really, but Jesper had gotten used to everything being so different and once all the violence stopped he saw the town had its charm. The same happened with the people, everyone -him included- with time had defrosted to reveal a kind side. 'Kind' may be a little strong of a word for Mogens and it could be the alcohol talking there, but now that he was thinking deeply about it Jesper could admit the ferryman did have his charm too.

Strong jaw, not scrawny at all, unlike Jesper, and there was an odd elegance on the way the man talked, how he moved around life; he flowed with it, always looking admirably unfazed with that smirk of his against anything that happened— It was satisfying to get a surprised look out of him because of that. And though kind of twisted, Mogens had quite the good sense of humor too. Jesper couldn't deny he would laugh along the jokes if he wasn't always the butt of them.

But most importantly, Mogens had experience in this area. Considering all that, maybe...maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to-

“What's on the postman's mind now?” Jesper widened his eyes at seeing Mogens pop an eye open, his hat being lifted from his face. “That was a game the kiddos liked to play with this one postman that came before you. Weird guy, used to space out a lot. Want to try a round?”

“You're drunk, Mogens.” Jesper said after a pause, as if that fact entered the equation. A hand passed tiredly along his face as he lightly shock his head at what he just considered. “ _I am_ drunk...”

“Ah, the old 'alcohol induced epiphany' I see. A classic one, more after this kind of conversation. Can't relate to looking like a miserable bag-of-bones though.”

Jesper frowned, lifted his gaze. “Wha-”

“I've met people like you, chuck.” Again, Mogens abandoned his comfy posture to straighten himself, the entire chair touching the floor and his elbow going to rest on the desk now. Something about the sailor's seriousness tonight felt...odd, Jesper wondered if bringing the drink in the first place had been a good idea. “I recognize when someone's in denial the first moment I see it.”

Jesper fell stiff, silent and with his eyes the only part of him able to move. They widened slowly, along with the smug smile of Mogens at getting the confirmation he expected. Those arched brows made him feel totally vulnerable. At this point, it was a known fact being that front of Mogens was not a good idea at all.

So Jesper laughed, short and nervous and unable to bite back the dumb babbling that always happened when he was feeling that way.

“Oh, nononono, I'm not- It-It isn't like that, I've just been er- curious! For a while now. One finds out about something not quite common- but not bad, _not bad_ \- and they get curious, it's normal and usually happens-” Jesper hands were everywhere as he talked now and it was obvious that Mogens got lost a while ago, but he just kept going. “So you want to try it to confirm it's not your thing but you don't want to throw yourself to a total stranger, and it gets frustrating because the only person I know that likes men is-”

“You...” Jesper finished with a tiny voice, his fingers pointing at the ferryman slowly falling at the realization of what he just said.

Mogens just blinked.

He looked taken out of guard, the best reaction Jesper could accomplish to get from that man appearing in the worst moment possible. A mischievous smirk followed it, and suddenly the idea of throwing himself out into the storm seemed as a valid and completely out-of-consequences alternative for Jesper.

Before he could follow that plan though, the ferryman stood up from his seat, calm and relaxed and not giving any reason for Jesper to flinch. He did anyways.

“Are you trying to ask for something, postman?” Jesper felt himself sinking more and more on his seat as Mogens got closer. “These old ears couldn't quite catch it.”

As much as his tongue was suffering right now, Jesper kept on biting it, restraining it from going into another fit of blabbing that would only ruin everything more than it already was. He tried to keep his words of salvation short.

“... _no?_ ” Jesper hated how doubtful he sounded, tried to compensate it with a furred brow. “I-I mean, I don't like you.”

At this point both knew that was a lie.

“Which they say,” A sudden boot sliding behind one of the chair's front legs got the object to turn around with a quick pull. Mogens held onto the wood arms to kept it from falling as he leaned in close, too close, till Jesper could smell the wine in his breath. “ _It only makes it all the better.”_

Right then Jesper discovered that _'Oh my god'_ was a possible feeling to have.

Mogens still looked smug, because of course he would look smug doing that, but that only confused Jesper more about if this was serious or just another cruel joke. Whatever the situation was, he had an answer and needed to give it right now.

There were thousands of ways to give it. He was taller than Mogens, he could stand up and try to impose some kind of authority(which obviously wouldn't work with his slim body); heck, he just needed to say something, _anything_ but stay sitting there like an idiot!

But he was paralyzed under that relaxed gaze, under that smell of sea and those lips that were close with obvious intentions but never did anything.

It almost made Jesper want to break the tension somehow.

“But no, no, you're right.” Suddenly, the moment Jesper's fingers twitched to do something, Mogens pulled away. The way he stored his hands on his jacket's pockets and started walking away had a casual vibe that was unbelievable. “We're both drunk, don't want any regrets after a night of messing around like that.”

Where Mogens was going, who that sentence was directed to, or if he should actually listen to his common sense telling him he was drunk and needed to slept it off, none of that was reaching Jesper's brain. He was just seeing his younger-self running away from the truth, living the same situation again in a way that didn't really fit with Mogens at all but felt the same somehow.

Jesper didn't want that, didn't want to be kept in the dark about this whole thing for another set of years. So he, with the alcohol giving the final impulse, found himself leaving the chair and practically throwing himself over the desk to get a hold on Mogens' sleeve.

The ferryman had stopped without giving a fight, paused for a moment during which Jesper considered chickening out. When the other man turned around Jesper knew he fell into a trap, because right in front of him there it was, _that smile._

The one Mogens had given him the day they met, the one that shouted in big words that the ferryman knew he was going to have fun, that he was going to mess with the postman in so many ways that day.

And Jesper was willing to let it happen.


	2. Hidden behind alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> God I took a month to update this, I'm so sorry-
> 
> Ngl I didn't thing this would get that much attention so I was baffled to see all the kudos and kind comments, you guys are so nice and now I feel bad for taking so long aaa bless you all ;; Irl stuff and other personal things got in the way of me updating until now, hopefully this will live up to expectations.
> 
> I admit went a liiiitle more towards the horny route instead of the usual mushy stuff I write with this chapter, can't explain why I just did- but I think it makes it stay more in character so it's fine.
> 
> Now in case it isn't obvious, THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT BETWEEN TWO SLIGHTY DRUNK BUT CONSENTING ADULTS, read under your own risk, feel free to give feedback etc. you know how this goes.

In the last hour, fate had been sending enough red flags to try make Jesper reconsider his choice, _understand_ how this may be the less smart of his ideas.

On purpose, he ignored all of them.

So there was Smeerenburg's local postman now: lower half-trapped against his desk and with another man's lips buried on his neck, kissing and sucking onto the skin in a way that made Jesper a mess of shudders and moans that he had trouble biting back.

The ferryman's hat had long been left aside to not bother, now lying on the floor along with the postman's suspenders and boots. Jesper, despite the sensations being well-received by his body, was having difficult to stay calm under the rough hands that were holding his sides. The other man obviously noticed despite the Jesper's attempts to not show it.

“Relax, sport, I'm not gonna hurt you.” Mogens reassured him. At those words Jesper breathed in, trying to do as told, when a bite into his neck made an embarrassing sound escape his throat instead. “Kind of, _heh_.”

That _definitely_ got a glare out of the postman. Mogens was a teaser even in these scenarios, _of course,_ what made him think otherwise?

Jesper has a few things to say about that, but before he could voice his complaints a pair of big hands scooped under his shirt, getting a gasp out of him.

“No long underwear? _On this weather?_ ” Mogens surprised tone lasted only a second before it returned to the usual teasing one. He lifted his eyes to smirk at Jesper. “You weren't waiting for this to happen, were you?”

“Nhg-” Jesper had problems keeping his voice steady as the thumbs moved across his nipples, his own hands going to hold onto the other man's jacket by instinct. He felt his own hips move forward as a familiar feeling started to form in his lower area.“W-weren't we having a heat wave?”

A short breathless laugh accompanied Jesper's blurted out answer at not knowing what else to do but joke away from the question. Considering he was prompt to do that when nervous(which he was, just a bit, _a tiny one_ ) and that the only language Mogens knew were sarcastic jokes, this gave room for a ton of ridiculous exchanges happening through all the act that Jesper didn't know how he was going to be able to handle.

Mogens hummed softly as a response, his amused smile giving another teasing kiss near the collar of his white shirt. From a moment to another, the sailor's attention shifter to a slight bulge longing for attention in the younger man's pants.

“ _Oh..._ ” Mogens lifted his head and widened his eyes a bit, the teasing still able to be heard in his fake-casual tone. “Package for me? Wasn't expecting it to arrive so soon, postman.”

Jesper found himself leaning backwards at how close their faces were, his hands at the edge of releasing the cloth in an undone-attempt to put some distance between their mouths. Between his flushed face, another tone or red was able to sneak on his cheeks when he looked down.

“There's another one actually.” Jesper didn't facepalm at how dumb that comeback sounded just because the tent in the other man's pant was holding all his attention. He gulped at noticing the size of it. “A big one...”

Realizing what just escaped out of his mouth, Jesper shoot his gaze back upwards, forcing it to stay there as much as it wished to go back. Mogens smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

“That's one we'll take care of later. But since you look so eager...” Softly, the ferryman took the smaller wrist on his hand, directing it downward as he leaned in closer until his goosebumps-inducing whisper sounded right on Jesper's ears. “ _I'll let you touch the envelope._ ”

Wait, wasn't _he_ the postman? He should be saying th-!

Jesper's breath got caught in his throat as his hand came in contact with the clothed tent. Blushing, he was unable to stop his fingers from pressing it slightly in a curious exploration. The shaky huff that came beside his ear remained unheard between his own thoughts.

It felt big and hard under the fabric, familiar to his hand due to years of surprises appearing on his own trousers since Jesper went through puberty. But this wasn't his length, _it was another man's._ It was another's man and he was touching it and oh god he was liking doing that and his own pants were feeling a little too tight now-

“Alright, that's all you get for now.” As quick as it came, the warmth left his hand when Mogens pulled it away. The man grinned, relaxed voice soft as he barely pulled the waist of the postman's trousers to indicate what the next step was.“Should we unwrap this one?”

This time Jesper did groan out loud(rather hypocritically). “Do you _have_ to make jokes in a moment like this?”

“Your friend isn't complaining, is it?” Mogens seemed to bite back a disappointed pout. To remark his point, he pressed his knuckles lightly against the blond's bulge. This alone got Jesper to bit his lip and flutter his eyes shut.

Something along a soft, breathy chuckle could be heard as two hands placed themselves on the waist of his trousers. Jesper had to squeeze his eyes tightly at the cold feeling that came with the rustle of fabric.

A whole minute passed by before he dared to pop an eye open. His member was peeping from under his shirt; hard and flushed and asking for attention. When he looked up to find Mogens's gaze railing along his body with interest, Jesper had to endure the need to cover himself.

“So uh...enjoying the view?” The postman leaned back as he chuckled that out, his attempt to look confident(to not give Mogens reasons to tease him more) falling miserable due to his nervous tone.

“Quite certainly.” Mogens answer took Jesper off guard. “Interesting to see a delicate body here, for a change.”

As much as the postman wished to, denying that would be an obvious lie. Years of whims, mud baths with facial masks and butlers and maids doing everything for him had built Jesper into that: a soft skin, no muscle, and a slightly pudgy belly that between work snacks and daily walks through the snow couldn't decide whenever to leave or not.

If Mogens was teasing him or complimenting him by saying though, Jesper didn't know. Why was he wondering what the sailor thought about him in this context? The answer was also a mystery, one which Jesper thought it may be better to not delve into.

“I thought that wasn't popular with the ladies here?” Was all Jesper dared to ask.

“Never said anything about the men.” And just like that, after Mogens purred those words out, he got dangerously close to his face. Jesper found himself alarmed at the familiarity of it all.

“ _But before that-!_ ” The postman's panic expressed itself in the form of his voice cracking involuntarily and his hand shoving the other' face away. “You should take some layers off too.”

The hand got moved away by an annoyed looking Mogens, which Jesper for a moment feared he may have provoked and was about to be teased till no end as revenge, but the insinuating smile that came from hearing his last words showed it didn't. Jesper blushed.

“It's-you know, to keep things fair.” He added last minute, crossing his arms defensively and looking away.

Pulling away, Mogens kept the smile on his face as he started to remove his jacket to toss it aside. “Alright, what the public wants-”

He unbuckled his belt to make the next task easier and then placed his hands on his sweater before directing a quick wink to the younger man.“ _the public gets._ ”

Jesper found himself actually staring as Mogens removed the sweater, his eyes going wide at the sight of all the skin that only a sleeveless white undershirt barely covered. He could see the muscles in the sailor's arms coming from years of surviving on an island where strength was required in between fights and violence; the amount hair covering them and peeping noticeably from under the cloth(specially on his chest); faded tattoos here and there too; all of the things that the cold weather of Smeerenburg made impossible to see in conditions that weren't...well, _these._

“Enjoying the view?” Mogens teased, smug side-grin drawing in his face. Jesper simply averted his gaze and grunted to avoid giving an answer.

“So, where were we?” Panic attempted to settle again when Mogens placed himself between Jesper's legs, but it quickly turned to confusion when a hand softly made him lie down over the desk instead. “Would help if you told me, got a bad memory.”

“Uh...” Jesper blinked, his mind blank at the sight of Mogens over him, hands resting in the wood at each side of his head. Where were they? He had no idea what Mogens was going to do to him.

“Hm, could it be...” Slowly, one of the ferryman's hands went downwards, lips curving in a teasing grin.“ _this,_ perhaps?”

A moan escaped Jesper when those rough digits suddenly closed around his member. His face flushed a dark red and he was quick to cover his mouth to stifle it.

Mogens chuckled, pulling away a bit to have a better view. “So I was correct I see”

“Y-yeah, you were...” Jesper huffed to calm himself down. It really felt different from touching himself. A good different.

“And what should I do now?” Mogens hand barely pressed the skin, taking in the way the other's hips twitched at the sensation. “Clear instructions would be good.”

_'Like you haven't done this a thousand times now!'_ Jesper wanted to snark, complain because there was no way Mogens was trying to play dumb _now_ of all times, but only a muffled noise was able to leave his lips.

“What was that?” Mogens' thumb reached to press the tip.

Jesper had to bite his lip to avoid any other embarrassing sounds coming out of his mouth, his head throwing back over all the letters he should be organizing instead. Between the sensations, his own hand going to his blonde hair at the need to grab onto something, the postman managed to frown. Mogens couldn't be teasing him now, he just _couldn't._ There had to be a limit and Jesper hated to discover this wasn't it.

“Are you for rea-?” His attempt to protest got turned into a groan by a hand moving, stroking slowly in just the right way.

“Excuse my bad ear, can you repeat that?”

“Mogens, please!” Was all Jesper could say, way too desperate to keep his dignity intact right now. He wished there was a way to keep Mogens' mouth shut, to distract him of acting like a jerk.

“Please, _what?_ ”

Oh, for the love of-

With the need to be touched surpassing any logical thoughts, Jesper went with the first plan that popped into his head: He lifted himself up enough, pulled Mogens by the collar of his shirt and planted one right on his lips.

_And_ _fuck,_ Jesper didn't know how much his body had wanted to do that.

He didn't know much he wished to shut Mogens up, for the games to stop and to just be touched. All that desperation went right into that one sloppy, alcohol-flavored and needy kiss. After a moment of surprise, Jesper felt the ferryman's mouth twitch in what could have been a smirk before the kiss was returned with equal interest. A strong hand placed itself behind his neck, helping deepen the kiss as a tongue easily sneaking inside his mouth. The postman felt himself melt in the other's arms when his pulsing need below finally started receiving proper attention.

The kiss quickly grew in intensity then. Mogens got close until Jesper could feel that hard bulge pressing against his, a grunt escaping from the other man as well. It was difficult to keep up with the twirls on his mouth, to not moan with how overwhelming all the new sensations were, so Jesper had to hold onto the ferryman's shirt for his life.

It was the need for air being stronger than anything what made them pull apart, pants and groans that Jesper tried to muffle with his hand appearing in an instant.

“That desperate, huh?” Mogens voice came breathy as he chuckled. He lifted his own hand to remove the improvised cover from the postman's mouth. “Ah, ah, can't know if you're feeling good if you do that, can I?”

Jesper shuddered at the words being whispered in his ear, now unable to stop the embarrassing sounds leaving his mouth when Mogens quickened the pace of his touch. He didn't want to be seen like this, to _see_ Mogens seeing him like this; so with his face as red as it could possibly be, Jesper threw an arm around his eyes, whimpering pathetically at how much he was enjoying surrendeing to another's man attention right now.

From en moment to another, it all reached its peak when Jesper felt that familiar string on his gut warning about what was to come. “Mogens wait! I-I'm going to-!”

The unwanted shake of his body, the overwhelming sensation that sent him over the edge, the feeling of leaving reality for a second, all of what the postman thought was going to happen... _didn't._

Nothing.

A big, enormous and ugly bag of absolutely nothing was what he felt.

Struggling to catch his breath, frowning in the mos noticeable mix of anger and confusion, Jesper leaned on his elbows in a sad attempt to sit up. Right in front of him stood Mogens, smirk on his face and the hand that had been working a moment ago now waving lightly in the air as if nothing had happened.

“You said 'wait'.” The ferryman commented matter-of-factly.

'Matter-of-factly' Jesper wanted to throw hands right now.

“Are you kidding?!” But he felt weak after the joked of attention that was what just happened and a real fight was not in the list of new things he wanted to try, so the postman simply fell back on the desk like a spoiled child, throwing both hands over his face in an attempt to muffle the pathetic whine that followed. “ _You're the worst._ ”

“I am.” The obvious answer came along with the sound of clothes rustling. At that, Jesper pried his arms to catch Mogens getting something from his jacket's pocket before tossing the cloth aside. “But don't get ahead of yourself, postman. There's still some things to prepare before the real fun.”

Jesper scowl slowly shifted to widened eyes at seeing the object Mogens now had lazily dangling in his hand: a small, green bottle with a familiar liquid inside. The man in the desk unconsciously brought his legs closer to cover himself.

“And _I_ was the one waiting for this?” Was all Jesper could exclaim, somehow still trying to win against a dumb commentary that was made long ago.

“Eh, gotta be prepared.” Mogens shrugged. The 'pop' the bottle made when the cork got easily removed by Mogens' thumb made Jesper flinch and the scent of olive oil only confirmed his suspicions.

“So,” Grin on his face, eyes half-lidded in a siggestive manner, the ferryman threw the heart-attack-inducing question without a thought for any prior warniings. “are _you_ prepared?”

Jesper gulped.

-

The education Jesper received respect to sex back in his entering-adulthood years had been brief and awkward at best: 'You do this and that, here are the things that happen after, and if you do it outside marriage you will _die'_ — to this day, Jesper didn't know if his private teacher had been joking while saying that or not—. Since it all, of course, applied only to men and women, Jesper never had the guts to ask about what he really wanted to know( _'just curiosity'_ he would tell himself). Scandalous rumors and hours of looking with the dim light of a candle through prohibited books from the library at ungodly hours had to do the work for him.

To this day he still blushed sometimes, when he remembered those images in the most inappropriate of moments. So yeah the investigation had worked to an extent, Jesper had a vague idea of what would happen, but no, he didn't expect — _planned_ — to actually live it.

It was that why the postman had to take a moment to process it and another to not shiver at the idea that he was going to be touched into a really weird part, in a really weird way, but it would apparently feel good and it- It was weird! He had the right to be nervous, jeez.

Maybe it was the throbbing of his body asking to get release, or the fact that at some point the ferryman's smile started showing some exasperation at the babbling of Jesper repeating that _he was fine, he just needed a minut_ e — plus Mogens deciding to throw in the joke of 'while we wait you could give that mouth of yours another use' to tell the younger man to set his mind for once not helping _at all_ —, but Jesper finally got to put himself together and allowed Mogens to do his thing.

Turns out, if he stopped overthinking and actually relaxed, the sensations down there were unexpectedly pleasant.

“W-why is this necessary again?” Jesper, forearm covering his eyes and back lying over the desk, asked with difficulty as oil covered fingers kept moving inside him, teasing that one part the postman discovered was specially sensitive.

“Aah first timers _~_ such curious folks.” Mogens answered as casually as he had been the entire act. Jesper envied that. “To make the next step easier for you, basically. Less you want is a bad experience scaring you away from a next time.”

To that the postman uncovered his eyes a bit to blink. That 'next time' wasn't specific, Mogens probably meant in general, a comment thrown to the air without that much thought; still, the implication of _this_ ever happening again was something Jesper didn't expect to hear, think about.

It was something that required all his attention and brain cells in a sober state to process, stuff that, right now, weren't in conditions to do so neither was he in the mood. Like the rest of his work, Jesper left it in the to-do list of his tomorrow-and-more-sober self.

As if having realized what he just said, the ferryman was quick to shift the topic away with another joke.“Besides, aren't I suppose to treat things labeled as fragile with care?”

Jesper squirmed, both for the comment and for the fingers being removed. The sound of clothes rustling got the postman to lift himself and uncover his eyes in time to catch Mogens pulling down both his pants and underwear enough to show more of himself. The sailor's erection bounced out once free and Jesper had to bit his lip, instantly having to force himself to look away at noticing he was staring too much. _Okay_ yeah, it was in front of him, but that didn't mean he had to stare- Oh God he was looking at it again.

“All to go then.” Noticing the stare, Mogens smirked and pulled the fabric down more for better display. The bottle on his other hand received a little shake. “You ready, big guy?”

At feeling at an uncharacteristic loss of words, the only Jesper could do was nod and avoid the ferryman' gaze. He went back to lie down on his desk, blushing at hearing a grunt and the slippery sound of oil and skin coming in contact in front of him. After a moment, Jesper took a deep breath and closed his eyes when those big hands separated his legs and a voice warning him of what was to come.

Mogens went in slowly, a grunt leaving him as the oil made the access easier into the other's body. The strange but not unpleasant sensation got a whimper out of Jesper, his nails digging onto the wood. Mogens instantly had to remind him to relax to make it easier for both of them.

Halfway through the ferryman paused. Jesper half opened his eyes to catch sight of the man over him. It wasn't Mogens' first time doing this, and even though he was way more familiar with the situation than Jesper, the ferryman still had the sweating forehead, the difficulty to keep steady as he had to rest a hand on the wood, the pleased, tired smile to expect from these situations. He was enjoying this as well.

Noticing the stare, Mogens managed to let out a breathless chuckle. “Been a while...and you're... _really_ tight.”

“I-is that good?”

“More than good.”

Jesper sighed, closing his eyes to enjoy the silence the situation was finally giving to him. Looked like even Mogens' tendency to never shut up could do nothing against these sensations.

It didn't surprise Jesper to hear that it has been some time since Mogens did this, for some reason. It strangely made sense. Even though he acted like the talkative guy, Jesper couldn't recall ever seeing Mogens actually engaging a conversation with people there until...well, post-Klaus-Christmas. Now he could be seen waving here and there, but if it wasn't with him or Alva or any from the outsiders group, most of the time Mogens was...kind enjoying things on his own.

How he got people to sleep with was a mystery then. Maybe he got contacts, maybe a quick chat in a bar made way to that. Always strangers, someone with whom both would agree there was nothing tying them together after that night.

...Jesper wondered how much that changed with the way they knew each other.

When Mogens kept moving, the postman wasn't able to bite back his chocked moan, neither to keep his arms in place. He needed to hold onto something, but the only thing was-

“H-hey, can you-” Jesper didn't even think how to ask, his arms extended on their own to do so. He felt dumb looking like he was asking for a hug.

There was a small moment Mogens eyes widened just the slightest bit at that. Whatever train of thought the man had, it ended in him deciding to hesitantly lean forward, dainty hands instantly holding onto the back of his shirt as a slim face hid into the crock of his neck. A hand went to rest on Jesper's back then helping him to keep steady and for a moment making him think the other was being kind for once. He quickly got proved wrong once he noticed the hand was cold and going under his shirt. Jesper gasped.

“The cuddly kind of guy, huh? That's unexpected...” The ferryman had an amused smile on his face, but made no comment on his little prank.

“Oh, and _you?_ ” Jesper couldn't identify if Mogens tone was mocking or not, he got defensive just in case. Mogens vaguely hummed to ask the other to elaborate, his lips brushing over Jesper's Adam's apple making the task of talking even more difficult. Unconsciously, Jesper tilted his head to give his night partner more room. “W-Well you know, I-I didn't expect you to be so- thought you would be more er...rough?”

A grimace drew in the postman's face at his failed attempt to say that in a non-weird way. Mogens laughed against his neck, _a sincere laugh._

“You want me to be _rough?_ I appreciate the offer, beast, but I need you to be able to lift the heavy bags tomorrow.”

“ _Bad back~_ I know, I know.” Jesper's imitation of Mogens was bad he knew, the point still came across. “Ugh, don't remind me about work.”

“Oh, don't worry, _you'll forget._ ”

Before Jesper could ask, or even feel something for that bedroom voice, a not-so-gentle testing thrust caused his body to react, his nails instantly digging onto the other man's skin and his back arching as a chocked moan to left him. “G-gah! _God_...”

Between a soft grunt, Mogens was able to speak. His voice was just as breathless. “Ya good there?”

“Y-yeah, just...go slow...”

No chuckle came, but the ferryman's tone sounded like one was at the back of his throat. He simply smirked teasingly. “ _Told you so._ ”

Jesper didn't care enough to roll his eyes this time, neither could he when a more careful pace of thrusts slowly started to pick up a rhythm.

If the fingers that had been inside him were anything to go by, Jesper thought he had a vague idea of how all this would feel like. But though alike, the sensations were different in a lot of ways. Mogens felt bigger, more stretching, and reached deep enough to always touch that one so- _so_ sweet spot with ease. Jesper's body was, once more, struggling to decide between melting on the sensations or needing to hold tighter onto the other man.

It was calming in a way, for Jesper to hear and feel he wasn't alone in that cluster of sensations; Mogens was right there, breathing heavy, feeling pleasure out of having Jesper around him and accompanying his own sounds with low groans expressing the same bliss.

Jesper succumbed at the end. With his hands no longer able to keep him in place, the postman fell back over the desk, Mogens not hesitating to follow suit. A pair of hands separated his legs further and Jesper thought he left his body for a second when he had to throw back his head at the thrusts augmenting their pace.

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Jesper was unable to keep his voice in control by now.

Mogens managed to chuckle. “ _Couldn't have said it better..._ ”

Everything was a mess after that: their sounds, their breathing, the letters that had scattered around the floor at some moment. Jesper could only hold tight onto any ends of the wood his hands managed to reach, barely able to focus his view to see their warm breathing turning into small clouds of fog at the contact with the cold of the room. It was nearly gone by now, but with the little light of the oil lantern the blurry figure of Mogens could be seen. Right then, when Jesper managed to open his eyes and see the other man looked just blissfully tired as Jesper felt, it was then that sensation came more intense than ever.

“M-mogens...Mogens I'm- Ah-!” His brain couldn't, won't let him release the correct words to warn the other man with his breathing so accelerated like that, but that didn't seem to see a problem. At that moment, Mogens understood him perfectly.

It was an eager stroke on his cock what brought Jesper to the edge. His back arched, his head threw itself backward over the end of the desk, and Jesper could only release a last chocked moan as Mogens burrowed himself deep into the entrance until he too had released his climax with a low groan.

The events after that were still a blurry memory in Jesper's mind.

He could recall the long pause to re-gain their breaths, the uncomfortable sensation of a cock pulling out with a viscous liquid left behind, and the failed attempt to walk normally with legs that wouldn't work after such intense sensations. A laugh and a pair of hands grabbing him by his shirt to get him to stand up in a not-so-delicate manner were there too, as well as a joke along the lines of 'delivering a delivery man' playing in the background as Jesper was taken to his room.

That night Jesper fell asleep to the soft touches of his silk sheets and the soft, nearly unnoticeable feel of a rough hand brushing his hair before it disappeared into the cold of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand there you go, they did it. But what's gonna happen the next day? How are these two gonna handle the aftermath of this? That we'll know in the third and last chapter(which I'll try to not take that long to post fdsgfd)
> 
> Thanks a lot for the kudos and lovely comments in the first chapter! I would appreciate it if you tell me your thoughts here too since I'm still new on writing nsfw nnUu


	3. Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aand last chapter, thank you all for reading! <33 I can finally say I finished this oof
> 
> Self-reflecting thoughts are had, a certain teacher reveals mind-blowing facts without even being aware of it, and Jesper discovers there may be more to Mogens than what meets the eye

Unlike his slumber of that night, the following morning hadn't been that peaceful for the local postman of Smeerenburg.

First, his day started with loud clucking serving as an alarm clock. A startled Jesper hit his head against a branch while trying to search for the source of that sound and, besides of yelling at having more pain added to his already annoying hangover, now he found himself directing a scowl towards 'Chicken' — or rather, the Saami translation of that word that Márgu had chose to name the little animal, but Jesper still had problems pronouncing it so her temporal name was Chicken until he could say the original properly —. The feathery trickster only tilted her head at the man from her spot on the bed.

With tiredness in his step, and a pair of eggs for breakfast that earned his forgiveness on hand, Jesper left the office with some pants lazily put on — weird thing was he didn't remember sleeping without them in a while — to leave Chicken back in her little home from which she had escaped from. All part of his usual routine, until the inevitable happened.

A pair of neighbors waving their good mornings at him, the nice gesture being interrupted by their need to snicker and point, a confused arched brow turning into widened eyes when Jesper returned to the office, and _then_ the sight on the mirror of those marks around his neck. Suddenly most if not all the memories returned in the shape of a wine bottle lying empty on the floor over all the scattered letters, and an involuntary scream left him as if they were cockroaches appearing in his bathroom at midnight.

A thing like that called for an emotional crisis, but no! There was work! And he was responsible now! So he had decided to meticulously divide the burst of emotions in an schedule: half a crisis while having breakfast and the other half while doing his everyday route to get-and-give letters.

The letters were few that day, as the Smeerenburg habitants(adults mostly) were still going slow with using the new system when Christmas wasn't near. That gave plenty of room for Jesper to have his remaining half crisis in peace, with only the occasional 'smile-and-wave' to do to the earliest rising neighbors. He was doing well pretending that he hadn't done the unimaginable with the local ferryman, so if he kept it that way maybe he could fool even-

“Rough night?”

Jesper nearly screamed.

He was ready to release that sound out loud, with his mouth open and his exaggerated position of fear— which got his bag to hit his side, auch — coming to a stop when he saw who asked that.

Oh, it was just Alva.

Wait, she was perceptive, come again: Oh no, _it was Alva_.

“Saying 'no' won't work and you know that. I've seen those bags before.” Alva was smiling knowingly, arms crossed while one finger was lazily pointing at Jesper's face. Seeing her in her teacher uniform made the postman realize he had walked much enough to reach the school. “Too much wine?”

For a moment Jesper stood still, no answer coming from his mouth as he took the usual sight of his friend with new information in mind. Dainty hands, pretty long hair, delicate features...that didn't change in his eyes. Those still were things he considered pretty, Jesper still felt the same way about women as he did his whole life.

And after yesterday, after years of intrusive thoughts escalating to that point, Jesper couldn't keep denying his feelings might not be limited to them only. He still needed time to accept it, but for once he felt...relief, just by not avoiding those thoughts he felt more relieved than he had in all those years. Something Jesper didn't know how he needed till he got it.

Awkwardly coughing on his fist, the postman returned to a more normal position. His hand instantly tried to tug the tall collar of his thankfully-very-covering uniform in a nervous fashion, but got stopped in time before they revealed the unwanted evidence under them. Jesper sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck instead.

“In part. Mogens had to stay the night due to the storm and he was a real pain in the-”

The sentence was left incomplete, not only because Alva would kill him if Jesper said an improper word around the children, but for _the implication_ , one Alva, nor anybody would get but it still felt like it would give him away to say it. Jesper could only pray the warm feeling on his cheeks could pass as a reaction to the cold.

“Oh noo, _don't tell me_.” Alva made another knowing face then she started laughing behind her hand, each bobble of her head augmenting the alarming sounds inside Jesper's head.

Finally, her laugh stopped, but the answer was luckily(or not) not the one expected.

“Yesterday? That was _nothing_.” Alva straightened, softly shaking her head as her hands clapped together in a rather cherry attitude — School days always got her in a good mood. Jesper wondered how the hell his whole office trembling so much with the wind was a 'nothing'. “You come from a warm place, it's understable, but the people that had lived here long enough treat it as a mere windy day.”

A frown. “Then why...”

“Mogens does that sometimes, when he gets bored I guess. Pretends he can't handle the weather to get an excuse to stay and being a nuisance for a while.” Shrugging, Alva smile dropped to a more resigned expression. “He did that to me once a few years ago. I got all worried when he walked out in the middle of the so-called storm after I left rules some clear and guess who was walking around the next day good as new?”

It was known between their little outsiders group that Mogens used to use others outsiders as a source of amusement, either by watching them fail or going to annoy them himself. Jesper could guess by her attitude with him that despite not being the first choice to bother — those were always the postmen, _Jesper_ _—_ , he still had dropped by in occasions until Alva got infected by the bitterness and violence of the old-Smeerenburg and so able to threaten the man. Things got much better nowadays though, but Jesper didn't think it could evolve to-

The faint memory of Mogens mentioning Alva, beer and knives, and the events of yesterday connecting in one single result made Jesper think of a bad, but kind possible idea. A...trap he may had fallen into.

“So...nothing happened?” His tone came out hesitant, as if he feared the answer.

Alva arched a brow at the question.“Well, no besides of him breaking the 'don't touch my food' rule the first five minutes I left the room.” Before Jesper could, for some reason, feel relief because oh, _those rules_ , Alva crossed his arms again and tilted her upper body to the side, narrowing her eyes and whispering in a sour tone at something over the postman's shoulder. “He still owes me that chicken sandwich.”

Jesper froze in place, not because of the cold wind hittig his face, but because he committed the mistake of turning around. Right there, outside a bar a few meters from them, was Mogens, relaxed in an old chair with his muddy boots rested on the table and a beer in hand as if nothing life-changing had happened the previous night. At noticing the Jesper's staring, the ferryman stopped his lazy waving at Alva to shoot a meaningful wink at him as he raised his beer.

With widened eyes Jesper glanced at Alva, who was distracted welcoming some students. It wasn't for her, the wink was directed at him and only him. This time, the postman was sure he felt his face turning as red as Klaus' Christmas suit.

“But I must say, I'm surprised he stayed the whole night. Aww, maybe he likes y- Hey! Where are you going now?!”

Jesper couldn't hear Alva's joke nor her claims of why she was left hanging as he walked fast, fast and away from the gaze of his current problem. Mailbox with letters were left behind in the process, ones the postman told himself he'll come back for later just to have an excuse to ignore his job. Right now, he just cared about running away.

-

So far, all of Jesper's thoughts that day only led him to a single conclusion. One he didn't like.

There were no signs of lying on Alva's face, no wrinkling her nose or a twitch of her eye giving her away. There was no trap, no plan in which he fell into. Jesper did all that by his own will and heck, he was the one that suggested it! Why did he suggest it?!

He had two excuses to pick from for that: alcohol and a curiosity.

It made sense, the perfect mix of those two gave room for disaster to happen. Jesper wished to know if he was simply confused and Mogens was willing to give a hand with that(er, _literally_ ). Liked it or not he got his result, and now what was left rom that experience was a new-found confusion, about other things, things Jesper insisted he should ignore. Just take the experience and move on.

But how long would- _should_ the 'moving on' part take? Because a few hours had happened after his crisis of that morning and Jesper, now back in his office, was still thinking about that. If he should have done it or not, the way his body felt(if he should have liked it or not), how little he knew Mogens after so much time(if he should really be worrying about that or not). Just...so many messy thought and none of them ever reached a conclusion.

It reminded Jesper of that one time his father prohibited him from drinking alcohol until his son was a legal adult(a year was still left before that back then). Thing which only made Jesper curious, which only made him more than willing to accept the short sips from the cup his uncle offered him in secret at dinners, which lead to Jesper hating it because 'ew it's too strong' but he had later thinking about trying it again, which led to his father nearly grounding young Jesper because he went into his office with way too many bottles from the mansion's wine cellar mixed in a cup and the drunk-rich-son couldn't do anything more than laugh and trip and pass out over the carpet. It was ugly, his father ended hiring a professor to teach him how to drink properly for that to never happen again.

Remembering how that went, Jesper took some relief in knowing his spoiled attitude wasn't entirely his fault.

The point was that, besides of the whole passing out over the carpet thing, the situation was similar in a way. Something new that felt like a big deal wouldn't leave his head before and after trying it, because now Jesper knew how it was, knew there were a hundred of ways in which it could be done.

The curiosity to try those different things felt way too familiar with the one he had before the wine disaster happened, and Jesper was scared of getting drunk on those sensations again.

Okay, _no,_ the situations weren't similar, couldn't be, because Jesper wasn't going to commit the mistake of repeating that again. He didn't long for the contact to happen again, didn't long for the thrill of surrendering to another person like that, not with Mogens, _specially_ not with Mogens. He was annoying, a teaser, knew way too well what he was doing and...it was a dangerously open book willing to teach him everything.

But anyways, here he was thinking about _not_ wanting to repeat it and he didn't know if Mogens would even consider the idea. So what if Mogens jokingly mentioned a next time? What if Jesper felt curious to try things himself now that knew how to? Mogens took care of everything yesterday while Jesper just sat back and enjo- _learned,_ that was it, which was nice and all, but Jesper had seen the fun of doing things for others there and...there was a nice ring in the idea of making someone else feel good in that matter.

... _'Give your mouth better uses'_. Did Mogens want that back then? For Jesper to return the favor and make him feel in bliss and short of breath by using his-

All the letters Jesper was classifying slipped from his hands at that train of thoughts. For five solid seconds he didn't notice, too occupied looking at the wall with horror as if it had imprinted the image that just invaded his mind. To knock some sense back into him, the postman had to shake his head, instantly kneeling down to pick the fallen envelopes. He rolled his eyes at noticing one of them had landed at the other side of the space under the desk. The idea of curling up to drown in his misery seemed tempting since he was on the floor.

Jesper bent down under that space to try to reach it, his bottom unconsciously raising as his fingers struggled to get a good hold of the remaining letter. It then came to his mind the mere innocent question: how was Mogens even handling the aftermath of what happened? Was last night something he'll ever consider repeating really? Jesper didn't know the man that much after all; it could all simply end in a never-to-mention thing, which was...okay? It was supposed to fell okay, but Jesper couldn't wrap his head on why something felt off about that, about the fact that yesterday might mean nothing.

Which it was supposed to, wasn't it?

The tips of his fingers lied stiff over the envelope as Jesper frowned, tried to understand what exactly was bothering him. After a moment of silence, his deep thinking got interrupted by a loud whistle coming from behind that got the postman to lift head in surprise. As a consequence not only did Jesper hit hard his uncapped head against the upper part of his desk, but also the letters in his hands and some others got scattered all over the floor and _oh,_ now he really did want to curl up and die on the floor.

But instead Jesper knelt up, one of his hands holding his head as he released several pained curses while the other went to cover his already-dressed neck as a reflex. At lifting his gaze and noticing it had been Mogens the one whistling, Jesper felt the need to cover his whole face that was probably red right now at realizing what he had been thinking of moments ago. He ignored that need just for the sake of not making himself more of a fool than he already was.

“Morning, postman.” Mogens greeted him from his usual spot at the window, his forearm leaning on the frame relaxed as if he hadn't just whistled at Jesper's butt, _as if he hadn't touched it yesterday_. An expecting silence followed, and when Jesper seemed unable to respond, Mogens continued. “...Good to see you walking around.”

The 'being able to' was silent, but Jesper heard it perfectly. Mogens walked right, but discreet enough, onto the topic, _that topic_ , the one that got the postman to forget all about the letters on the floor and slowly get up to face the ferryman. As he feared(or not), last night wasn't going to stay completely unaddressed.

“Good to see you checking around.” Jesper said after a moment of thought, those words somewhat feeling more sincere than he expected them to be. Dusting off his uniform thankfully helped avoid eye-contact from happening a little longer.

A shrug, the sound of wood cracking as the ferryman rested his weight on the window. “Eh, It's my job. Gotta be professional and all that, _don't you agree?_ ”

Jesper could feel the eyes set on him behind the probably lazy expression, how they were expectant to his reaction at those familiar words. As a sailor would do, Mogens was testing the waters.

They were...strangely calm considering the storm that happened yesterday.

Jesper looked at the mess of letters on the floor and sniffed, not really caring to pick them up. “I do. But I could use a break right now,” Saying this, the postman picked his hat from the desk and put it over his head, ironically completing his uniform. Standing tall was the only thing Jesper could to feel he had some sort of advantage in this probably embarrassing conversation. “And a drink...that isn't wine, as a change from yesterday.”

And there it was, out there and addressed in the middle of hints exchanges that somehow Mogens and him could communicate with perfectly. Sincerity in the middle of lies, a language that said everything and nothing at the same time.

Jesper had it nearly abandoned by now, but the fluency in it after years of using it back in his rich kid life was still buried deep in his tongue.

As to try to add some sincerity to it, to not fall into the old habits, Jesper lifted his hat with his thumb so it would stop covering his eyes, and for the first time in the entire conversation, locked eyes with the other man.

Mogens smile was gone, but he didn't look angry, not even surprised or a little confused; he was more like...lazily processing the words, brow arched and his head barely tilted to the side. Against the white snow and light sky in the background, Jesper noticed, the grays of Mogens' figure really popped.

It still was an odd sight, to not see that shit-eating grin planted on his face, but Jesper felt he was getting used to it, to know there was more past that in the town's ferryman. Heck, look at the guy now, Mogens was here, actually making an attempt to acknowledge things in some way and not being an excessive asshole about it. He didn't treat Jesper like a rag to forget after that night, Mogens had come to look for him, like he had done to Jesper on his first 7 months there, but he didn't come to mock him this time.

What did that mean exactly? At this point the postman didn't even know. What was going on, what they were going to do, it all suddenly became a mystery to solve. Jesper went past his own limits with Mogens yesterday, and in return the ferryman was going past his by being here to maybe have a serious talk. Certainly a different outcome expected from the person he first met in that town, it may be a hint that Mogens actually cared, may have started caring long ago.

Smeerenburg changed them all, for worst at first and then for best. Jesper had spent just 7 months in the worse part and already felt himself drained from happiness and hope, it turned him bitter. What would years have done to him? Alva and Klaus and Mogens, all outsiders like him, had been living proof of that before of the best. There were sometimes, leftovers of that past, some slowly dissipating faster than others. Mogens had to be the same case too, but out of all the people the sailor already knew there, it was with Jesper with whom he seemed to search up for that best, which meant...

_'Maybe he likes you'_ Alva words echoing inside Jesper's head felt like a fish slapping his face, hurtful and strangely bizarre. There was no more to elaborate on that, a simple 'he likes you' that Jesper didn't have a reason to believe it was not true, not after his spoiled ways ended long ago, not after Smeerenburg changed, not after...so much time knowing the guy. The jerk of the town liked him as a person.

And Jesper, well...

Finally, after a long silence, Mogens chuckled and shook his head slightly, the fog coming from his warm breath indicating how cold it was outside. “Like beer you say?”

Jesper found himself not that alarmed of that 'he likes you' maybe meaning something more, whatever that more actually was.

“Yup! Beer sounds good.” Jesper held back a wince when he heard his crack, quickly going to put on his scarf and gloves hanging from the coat rack to have a distraction. “A nice, fresh, delicious beer, _nothing better than that_.”

He was lying, Jesper hated beer. He just didn't want the conversation to lose its flow.

The cold air hit Jesper's face as soon he closed the main door behind him, the snow that would soon be adorned by a trail of footsteps crunching under his boots. Jesper stood in silence for a moment, practically feeling Mogens side glance waiting for what the younger man would do. Jesper didn't take notice of his own nervousness until his foggy breath started coming shakily. Inhaling deep, his voice came out soft when he finally spoke.

“Do you...know any good places?”

“A few I can show.” Mogens said after a pause, a relaxed smile appearing on his face as his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. “Any particular reason why you're asking, postman?”

Right there Jesper decided he couldn't anymore. He sighed heavily, practically groaned at having no idea what he was doing. He looked at Mogens and lifted a hand to accompany his words with gestures. “Can we drop the hints already? With the hangover my brain isn't on his 100% today and I'm trying to be serious here.”

Mogens also sighed, but more in an amused way. “And here I thought you would loosen up after yesterday.”

“I-” Jesper watched with a frown how Mogens began walking away. Before he realized he started raising his voice, hand hitting his own chest. “I'm loosened up! Totally relaxed! _As I haven't been in years!_ ”

Silence. The blush took a moment before quickly spreading across the postman's cheeks at realizing the double-meaning of that statement. This seemed to get Mogens to turn around and smile satisfied from his spot.

“Glad it's mutual.” Came loud enough from Mogens' mouth to reach Jesper's porch. The word 'mutual' had a strange effect in Jesper he didn't know how to describe. It wasn't the usual irritation for the jokes, neither confusion because deep down Jesper suspected the meaning. It sounded...sort of sincere to just be a joke.

Jesper snapped out of it at noticing Mogens was still there, waiting, and then he remembered that oh, yeah, he technically invited Mogens to have a drink; thing which was also odd. This would the first time both did something non-work related together, something alike a friendly hang out just the two of them.

Quickening his pace Jesper got to be besides Mogens, ready to follow suit to the bar where the ferryman would take them.

The mysterious ferryman and the local postman, walking together like friends and going to get a drink, such a normal situation in everybody eyes, but with such a different meaning for both of them.

Jesper didn't know what would result of this, if they would have a semi-normal chat like yesterday or spend it talking about the actual issue. Incredibly so, Jesper was nervous yet expectant to reach any of those options, even if the future events coming from the later would be a mystery.

The walk was relaxed and lighter than Jesper expected, with conversation easy to raise between both natural conversationalists and some chuckles and even laughs escaping from both sides. Jesper even found himself wanting to give a playful nudge at some moment, but saved it for himself because it seemed a bit too intimate(and Mogens would shove him into the first pile of snow as a comeback probably).

There was still some things unsaid between them, a wall built from never really knowing the other and reservations that was tough to put down. Just yesterday Jesper noticed it there, and just today they had been given the chance to do something about it.

It may take time, and both had their own work to do to get to that, but who knew, maybe another glass of wine could be of help with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated! I'm currently working in other fics along this one so depending how well this story goes I'll see which one should be updated first


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